


Beaches

by grayspider1974



Series: Ivar's World [15]
Category: Vikings (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayspider1974/pseuds/grayspider1974
Summary: In which Hvitserk and Ivar go to the beach, and Hvitserk gets mogadored.





	Beaches

**Author's Note:**

> Selkies are creatures from Scottish mythology that emerge from the sea on moonlit nights to dance and attempt to procreate with human men. I like to invert the stereotypical "rape fantasy" because it is based on Victorian stereotypes about sex that should have been done away with along with corsets and hoop skirts!

The better part of that morning had been spent digging a trench in the sand. Then Hvitserk helped his brother out of his leg braces and into the trench , and buried his legs as Helga had taught him to do as a child, and shaded his brother's exposed upper torso with a large beach umbrella. Helga had said that this was an old healing technique that she had learned from her grandmother, and it evidently worked because Ivar took his medication and was asleep by the time his brother was finished. They had sent him home from the hospital with a perscription for coedine, which worried Hvitserk because their father had become addicted to coedine, but Ivar was in genuine pain after his foot had been crushed, and doping his brother up and burying him in sand gave Hvitserk a few hours of peace as well. He contemplated going for a swim, but reached for the beer he had in his cooler bag instead, and watched some old women with webbed feet walking up and down the beach with sticks. One stopped, and started digging with her stick.  
"Selkies," Hvitserk thought."They must be digging for clams." Then two more Selkies drove up in a pickup truck and started digging a pit. They started a fire in the pit, filled a huge enamel pot with sea water, produced a sack of corn and another of potatoes and started peeling and husking. Then a woman with hair like a sunset walked out of the sea, carrying two mesh bags full of crustaceans that screamed piteously as they were dumped into the pot. More Selkies arrived by sea and by land bearing watermelons, pineapples, cases of beer, cole slaw, some sort of jellied salad that was shaped like a kraken, and a banner that read "Happy Birthday, Ariel" on it, and freckled, ginger-haired people with webbed feet and wide, double-lidded eyes swarmed out of the sea like a festive version of the Battle of Dunkirk. The pair that had come in the pickup truck struck up a tune on fiddle and bodhran drum and one of the crones joined in with a concertina. Hvitserk was suddenly caught up in a whirl of dancers with flying hair the colours of autumn leaves, bouncing bosoms and bums and large, webbed feet that flapped and stamped in age old patterns. A girl grabbed his arse and giggled. Hvitserk had heard stories about what Selkie girls liked to do to men and glanced nervously over at Ivar, who was still blissfully asleep. Someone had had the sense to throw a laid blanket over Ivar and surround him with Mason jars in which tiny glowing sea creatures danced and twirled in time to the music. A mature Selkie lady whose breasts sagged past her waist but who wore massive golden torques around her neck and wrists and piercings in her nipples and navel and a ferocious looking scarlet macaw on her shoulder handed Hvitserk a tiny glass of amber liquid that smelled and tasted delicious but burned like magma, then kissed him on the cheek and said "Slainte ba!' Then two big, burly girls whose freckles triggered Hvitserk's trypophobia wrestled him to the ground and nearly smothered him with their breasts, and what he thought was a girls hand on his back skittered across Hvitserk's neck and revealed itself to be a small pet squid that suddenly lit up. The girl's actual hand was creeping down Hvitserk's spine, probing an area of his anatomy that he was not entirely certain he liked having a finger inserted into. He lay in the sand and stared up at the moon, which was quite full and seemed to be laughing at him as a woman with wild auburn hair and breasts like two custards sprinkled wit cinnamon crashed on top of him like a tidal wave. He peered over at his brother, who had woken up. Ivar's pupils were as big as eggs and he was clearly stoned off his rocker but he was watching the proceedings with avid interest and eating corn on the cob.  
"Help me! Hvitserk whimpered. "Get her off1 Get her off!"  
Ivar shook his head, slowly and deliberately and grinning like the mad moon above. "I think that's she wants YOU to do, bro!"


End file.
